Jumper
by A. Linnea Elindor
Summary: Harry and Ron converse on a turret after the death of Voldemort. Why is Harry standing on the edge? (hints to suicide, character death, other such unpleasant thoughts)


Hello all you Harry Potter fans. This is my first fic so feel free to be brutal, but not flamey and all that. Um…Harry, Ron and all those mentioned don't belong to me, they belong to JKR. The "Jumper" line is from Third Eye Blind (Stephen Jenkins!! ::swoon!::) So yeah, here is it. Kinda depressing, I must say, but yeah. Done.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend. We could, cut ties with all the lies that you've been living in. And if you do not want to see me again, I would understand."  
-Third Eye Blind "Jumper"  
  
Harry let the cool spring breeze blow through his hair. He used to wear a hat on days like these-no sense in making his already uncontrollable hair even more so. Not today. He moved gently across the shingles, not making so much as a sound. 2 years in this war had taught him to sneak, to creep along. The turret's end plunged some thousand meters below him into the quidditch field. The one treasure of this ill-fated, wizarding life. Things had seemed so unbelievable 7 years ago: when he was first visited by Hagrid, his first journey to Diagon Alley, meeting Ron and…he couldn't say her name. She haunted him with her sacrifice, with the death he couldn't prevent. Because of him, because of everything he stood for and against, she had to die. The cheering and celebrating that oozed from Hogwarts' halls, like blood. They all laughed and sang and had another round of butterbeers downstairs, but for him, it was hollow. It all rang hollow. How many died for this celebration? Dumbledore, Snape and Flitwick left gaping holes in the schools staff. Bill and Charlie and Ginny and Fred and Percy…Percy of all people. Who would have guessed that beneath the pomp and ambition lay a true soldier. Remus still lay at St. Mungo's, waiting for the last of the Crucio curse to wear off. Neville was dead. Seamus was dead. Cho was dead. Justin was dead. Draco was dead. Harry had to sniff a bit at the last one. Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He flipped it over and read the inscription on the flashing gold medal. "To Draco Malfoy, Wizard First Class" Draco pressed it into his hand before he died… died at the hands of Pettigrew. Harry made sure that death was avenged. He had avenged them all. He had finally gotten the bastard. Voldemort was no more. And neither was he.   
  
"Harry?"  
  
Harry spun around, his wand raised. Ron stepped softly on the tiles towards him. "Why aren't you downstairs?" Ron asked, his newly cropped red hair giving his neck the chills. Harry resumed his position at the edge of the turret. Harry said nothing. Ron pulled up next to him. "War is made of sacrifices…" Ron began. "Don't give me that "War is sacrifices" bullshit, I'm not some snot-nosed private who needs death to be explained to him," Harry snapped, letting the medal drop back into his pocket. "No, you are the savior of the perhaps the entire world who has lost everything in the process. I can understand that." Ron pushed the dogtags of his family into his robes. Harry's sharp gaze softened. They stood side by side for a while, perilously balancing over the field. "There is so much I regret. So much I wish I could change," Harry finally spoke. He looked to Ron. He said nothing, but listened intently. "I know I shouldn't…but the more I think about it, the more I regret…" "Coming to Hogwarts." Ron finished. Harry gulped nervously, but nodded. Ron sighed. "You jumped head first into a life you didn't know, but one that you knew so well. You were the Boy-Who-Lived. Infamous. A legend told to kids at bed time. I wasn't much help either, I bet," Ron lowered his gaze. Harry mocked Ron's sigh. "What would I have done without you?" Harry gave him a small smile, then turned his attention back to the ground. "You know, it wasn't your fault. What Hermione did…she did it to save you," Ron let his head fall. "That's what I'm talking about! All this for me! Protection for me, leniency for me, extra spells for me, everything for me! Why the hell am I so important!? Why does everybody have to die for me!" Harry burst into tears, sinking to feet. Ron pulled him into an embrace and rubbed his back. "They were dying for peace, Harry. They were dying for a future. And they all knew that you could do it better than any of them could. They were dying so that you could live and they could die knowing that the ones they love would, you know, grow up without the fear." Ron tried to comfort Harry. Tears began to fall from his eyes as well. "I know that…any of my siblings would kill you if you felt responsible for their deaths. And I know that Hermione would never have done what she did if she hadn't believed with all her being that you would succeed. So yeah. They did die for you. But also what you represent. Your like a dove or something." Ron tried to form something coherent to comfort but in the end he was right. Everyone was dying for him. "But they didn't do what you wouldn't do for them. What I wouldn't do for you and what you wouldn't do for me." Ron added as an afterthought. Harry nodded and the tears dried to a steady trickle.  
  
"So, what's next?" Ron asked. Harry looked at him from over his knees. "I had come here right prepared to jump. I was going to jump and fall into the one thing in this whole wizarding world that hasn't turned against me or gotten someone killed or worse. But now…I think perhaps I'll just go." "Where?" Ron asked, his knees pulled up to his chest like Harry. The sky had dimmed from the cloudy gray, to a clear sunset. "I'm not sure. Somewhere secluded. That sunset…maybe Brazil. Somewhere deep in the Amazon. Neville would have had a field day there." Harry said miserably. Ron shrugged. "I always thought Antarctica would be nice. A little cold, but lots of penguins. Always did like those," Ron reasoned. "I'm not much in the cold. I'd rather someplace with warmth," Harry responded. "Um…Harry?" Ron asked. Harry raised his eyebrows. "This seclusion…this doesn't include me, does it." Harry looked up to the sky. "I don't know yet. You're my best friend, Ron, and I don't think I could have done anything in my life without you. But I don't want to pull you away from life. I've already done enough to your life," Harry shook his head. Ron nodded. "I don't suppose we could be neighbors then, could we?" Ron bit his lip. Harry turned his head back to sky. "Mars is awfully bright tonight," he muttered. "Hide away then. I'll be your keeper. No one will ever find you then." Ron thought aloud. "I was considering it. I just need some time for myself. To you know, be Harry, in the not Harry sense. I was thinking about changing my name, you know. Something not Harry Potter. It would be complete then." Harry said pensively. "So would a sex change," Ron joked. Harry laughed. Then Ron joined in. They both laughed for a good while, until the sun that peaked above the horizon finally submitted to the night.   
  
Harry Potter wasn't seen after that, not for a good long while. He did entrust Ron with his new location under the Fidelius Charm and for many years after, Ron's door was always buzzing with people wanting to know where the Infamous Harry Potter was. He never did tell, but every so often, Ron would vanish for a week or two out of the year. No one could ever follow him.   



End file.
